


Cupid and Psych-iatrist

by cincoflex



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Romance, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8145778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincoflex/pseuds/cincoflex
Summary: Sidney Freedman finds his spirits and libido lifted by a young widow.





	1. Chapter 1

It was sheer good luck that Lieutenant Heyworth survived her jeep accident, but bad luck for the two goats in the flock that had run in front of her, and for 4077th, which needed every nurse they had. As it was, operating on one of their own had everyone in camp slightly on edge. Heyworth’s broken ribs would heal but the pelvic fracture would take much more time, so reluctantly, Major Houlihan saw her off to Seoul, signed off on the transfer and requested a replacement ASAP, hoping for someone who could handle the work. Combat nurses were hard to come by, and training someone would take time, but at this point anyone with OR experience would do.

In a matter of a week, word came that a Lieutenant Olivia Granger was on her way. Her official records listed surgical assignments in both San Francisco General, and the main hospital in Seoul. Those were good enough for Houlihan. Colonel Potter signed off on the paperwork and it was a matter of waiting for the woman to show up as everyone tried to keep up with the ebb and flow of the casualties coming in. Being down even one nurse mattered, especially when the OR and the recover wing were doing brisk business.

In the meantime, nobody was precisely sure what had happened to the goats, but by complete coincidence there was barbecue on the mess hall tent menu two nights in a row.

\--oo00oo—

As Major Sidney Freedman tossed his duffel into the rear of the jeep, he spotted a woman sitting in the back seat, her nose in a book. Her lieutenant’s insignia gleamed on her collar and he noted that her long red-brown hair was neatly braided, hanging nearly to the end of her spine. Intrigued, he caught her glance when she looked up.

“Lieutenant. Are you heading out to the 4077th?”

“Yes sir,” came her slight twang. “Jest waiting for the driver.”

“Major Sidney Freedman,” he held out a hand. “I’m heading that way myself.”

She looked a little nonplussed, clearly expecting a salute, but after a second she set her book across her lap and extended her own hand. “Lieutenant Olivia Granger.”

“Good to meet you. Surgical nurse?” He inquired, fairly sure of the answer. 

“Yep,” she replied. “Yourself, sir?”

“Evaluations,” Sidney offered, not elaborating further. He was sure she’d seen the medical insignia on his collar and even though the field of psychiatry had come a long way it wasn’t always appreciated in medicine, particularly in wartime. “Personnel, mostly. Perhaps a few patients.”

The driver came hurrying up, giving both of them a quick nod. “All here and ready to go?”

Both of his passengers nodded; within minutes they were out of the motor pool lot and bouncing along a road that grew more rural with every passing mile. Olivia gave up on her book and closed it before slipping it to the floor of the jeep. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, what were you reading?” came Sidney’s question.

She sighed. “Forever Amber. I’m hoping to pass it on when I’m done with it, maybe pick up some Zane Grey if I can.”

“From Regency to the Range; that’s fairly broad,” he told her. “I’m more of a Robert Benchley type myself.”

Olivia chuckled. “I can see that. I really liked his movie on how to sleep. Had my granddad in stitches, that one.”

They chatted as the drive went on and Sidney found himself definitely attracted to this rangy Texan. She had a quirky sense of humor that appealed to him, and an independent streak that he thought would fit in well at the 4077th. With careful, roundabout questioning, he got around to asking her marital status. She wore no ring, but in a war zone that wasn’t uncommon, and Sidney had learned long ago not to take anything for granted.

Olivia’s face tightened for a moment at his query. “I’m a widow,” she confessed. “’Bout five years now."

“I’m sorry about that,” he replied gently, giving her a moment to recover or shift subject.

“It’s all right,” she sighed. “Straight outta the chute we weren’t a good match. Probably shoulda gone back to my maiden name but his was nicer.”

“Which means I have to ask what your maiden name was,” Sidney prompted gently. 

“Clowderbock,” she replied. “It’s all right,” Olivia added chuckling along with him. “It IS kinda funny.”

“It’s memorable,” Sidney agreed. “And you can always go back to it if you wish.”

“Oh not in the Army,” she shook her head making her braid swing. “Hard enough for a gal to get respect as it is without having a moniker everyone snickers at. I’m better off with Granger, believe me. So have you been to this post before? I’ve heard _all_ kinds of stories.”

“Most are true,” he told her with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye. “And the ones that aren’t are probably the circulating out of jealousy.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh Lordy. Even the one about the exploding latrine?”

“Verified,” Sidney murmured. “Several _times_ , as I recall.”

That led to a few other stories and by the time the jeep rolled into camp, Sidney felt sorry the trip was at an end. It had been nice just to talk with someone, especially a woman, without the weight of his profession lurking in the background.

“Well, I guess we’d better go see the CO,” Olivia sighed, hefting her duffle. “Which way?”

Sidney pointed with his chin. “Colonel Potter’s office is this way. Would you like me to get that for you?”

She flashed him a smile. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

They walked over to the tent and Sidney was aware of curious looks. He let Olivia step in first and followed behind her. At the desk, Radar looked up and blinked nervously. “Lieutenant? Ma’am?”

“Olivia Granger, reporting in,” she told him. “Is the colonel available?”

“Ah yes ma’am, I’ll just let him know,” Radar mumbled, blushing. As he scooted through the adjoining door, Olivia shot Sidney a questioning look.

“Shy,” he offered. “But efficient and a good person to know, that’s Corporal O’Reilly, company clerk.”

“Ah,” Olivia nodded. Then she was being ushered in and Sidney listened in as Potter rose to shake her hand.

“Lieutenant. Awfully good of you to step in for our injured nurse.”

“Thank you Colonel, I’m . . . looking forward to it,” Olivia told him.

“Well that will change pretty quick, but you’re needed and that’s a fact,” Potter told her. “We’re not fancy but we get the work done. I see you’re from Texas.”

“Yessir, little corner called Marathon.”

“Is your nose twitching, Lieutenant?”

“Ah yessir. I smell . . . horses,” Sidney heard Olivia admit.

“And how can you tell that?” Potter asked with clear amusement in his voice.

“Having shoveled up road apples for the better part of my childhood, I’m well-aware of their perfume sir.”

“Farm girl,” Potter chuckled. “What you’re referring to is the byproduct of my pride and joy, Sophie. I take it you know horses?”

“That I do sir.”

“Like ‘em?”

“I purely do _adore_ them, sir.”

“Good. After you’ve had a tour of the camp and checked in with Major Houlihan I’d be happy to introduce you to the primary creator of said road apples. Welcome to our unit, Granger. Dismissed.”

Olivia came past him again, looking relieved, and Sidney smiled. “Radar, if you’d take the lieutenant to Major Houlihan I’ll let the colonel know I’m here.”

“Yes sir, Major Freedman. Ma’am, lieutenant, right this way,” Radar replied.

Sidney knocked on the doorframe and peeked in. “Colonel?”

“Sidney! Got word you were headed our way. Any particular reason?” Potter smiled and nodded for Sidney to come in.

“Evaluations,” Sidney sighed. “Quick interviews just to make sure nobody’s dressing as Napoleon these days.”

“Klinger might make a dandy Josephine but can’t speak for the rest of us.”

Sidney flashed a quiet smile. “I know your staff was fond of Lieutenant Heyworth, and her accident probably still has a few of them unsettled. I’ll take that into consideration while I’m here.”

“Good,” Potter nodded. “In the meantime I’m sure Pierce and Hunnicutt will be glad to see you, if only to take your money tonight at poker.”

“It’s nice to be missed,” Sidney murmured, “even for pecuniary reasons.”

\--oo00oo—

Much of the camp was the same; the rushes and lulls in activity, the drab olive greens and mud-colored structures. Sidney had stopped in at the other M*A*S*H units and found the very same-ness a worrying comfort. The long-term effects of living in primitive accommodations while handling the most traumatic types of cases was bound to wear away at anyone’s mental health, and Sidney knew it all too well.

He’d dealt with depression and anxiety, with suicidal situations and their aftermath not only with the wounded, but also with the personnel responsible for their care. Sidney understood that the extremes of stress tended to warp the people experiencing it, and that pressure changed personalities. Some people became more of what they’d always been: more tense, more impatient, more morose.

Others flexed to the opposite: the serious became jokesters, the profane became spiritual and the care-free became care-worn. Marriages fell apart under the weight of war. _Minds_ fell apart under the weight of war. His job was to help people hold things together, or pick the pieces up as best they could.

Sidney sighed to himself. The 4077th was one of his favorite places simply because the people here did a better job of coping with life. They genuinely supported each other and still managed to deal with the daily horrors air-delivered to them at any point of the day or night. The gestalt worked here for one reason or another, and as a psychiatrist, he appreciated that. It was a bit of a respite on his circuit.

Without thinking about it, Sidney found himself walking towards the tent that sat on the outskirts of the operating room, feeling a sense of nostalgia and pleasure as the door flew open and the lanky dark-haired man ambled out, greeting him with a smirk. “If it isn’t our favorite shrink come trick or treating early! Hold out your pillowcase and I’ll fill it with neuroses. They’re chewy and won’t rot your teeth.”

“Sharing is caring,” Sidney replied. “The tent up the street is giving out complexes; if you hurry you might still get an Oedipus for your collection.”

“I’ll see if Mom says yes,” Hawkeye grinned, and then sobered. “So what brings you here?”

“Just checking around,” Sidney shrugged. “Heard about Lieutenant Heyworth and wanted to make sure nobody was having a hard time with it.”

Hawkeye gave a little nod. “Good nurse; nice gal. She was friends with Baker and Kellye.”

“Good to know. I came in with the replacement,” Sidney replied. At that moment Olivia strode by, still being given the tour by Radar; Hawkeye watched with wolfish interest.

“Dibs,” Sidney murmured quietly.

Hawkeye’s head whipped around. “Do my delicate ears deceive me or did you just . . .”

“I did,” Sidney replied, “just for the record I do have a libido; I just don’t get much of a chance to use it.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Hawkeye agreed, his expression slightly grudging. “Fine, although I’d like to point out that you won’t be here nearly as long as the rest of us.”

“True,” Sidney nodded, “but I’m going to try anyway. Where are your bunkmates?”

“Around,” Hawkeye waved expansively. “I think BJ’s doing post-op rounds and the less I know about where _Charles_ skulks off to the better. Drink?”

“Maybe later,” Sidney deferred. “Game on tonight?”

“Oh sure,” Hawkeye smiled. “Five card stud, jacks or better to open, and no analysis during the ante.”

“You say that now, but we’ll see how you feel about it once we’ve made a breakthrough,” Sidney murmured with a small smile.

Leaving Hawkeye, he ambled over to Post-Op, looking in on the rows of beds and the patients in them. Sidney kept out of the way, but listened carefully, aware he was trying to catch anything that didn’t sound right.

So far so good; the usual quiet chatter of post-op. He caught Father Mulcahy’s eye and exchanged smiles with the priest before moving to where BJ was looking over a chart.

“Sidney! Good to see you---don’t read anything into that,” came the easy greeting. “Social call, or something more?”

“Just making the rounds,” Sidney assured him. “Heard about Heyworth, thought it would be good to check in.”

BJ’s good-natured expression flickered a moment. “Yeah. I know Baker’s taking it a little hard.”

Sidney nodded. “I’ll check in on her. In the meantime I understand we’ve got poker tonight.”

“Ah the friendly art of fleecing each other,” came the soft chuckle. “I guess Charles is dying for a chance to take the dents out of his battered fortunes.”

“Speaking of whom, where is he?” Sidney asked.

“Last I saw he was in the mess tent,” came BJ’s distracted reply as he moved to another patient. “See you tonight, Sid.”

“Bet on it,” Sidney smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

“Okay, I’m not sure who handed out the excrement, but if this keeps up I want gloves,” Hawkeye grumbled over his cards. Sidney could tell he was bluffing; the little corner of the other man’s mouth turned up fractionally. He probably had at least three of a kind.

Across from him, Winchester held the sort of concentration one generally saw at a chess match, which meant his hand truly was crap. Sidney bet himself the major would fold before the next round. And as for BJ, his devil-may-care expression was as it always was, which made it the most dangerous con of all. He could have a full house, or a handful of nothing; there was no way to tell in advance.

Sidney glanced down at his own cards. The two pair was decent: nines over threes, and drawing another wouldn’t break the bank. He looked to Hawkeye. “Ante?”

“Uncle. Or are we not doing that word association? I’m in,” Came his flip response, along with a pair of chips.

“I fold,” Winchester murmured, stacking his cards.

“Now if you wash, dry and press, you’d be hired,” BJ smirked. “I’m in. Sid?”

“Oh I’m always interested in how things play out,” he admitted. Through the open net of the tent he spotted someone approaching and from the curves and cleanliness of the uniform he bet it was Olivia. Time to draw. “Hawkeye?”

“Two,” came the request. Sid passed the cards over as he watched the figure approach the flap of the tent and call out.

“Ah, excuse me?” 

They all looked over as Olivia stepped in, and Sidney felt a tiny rise in his hackles at the masculine interest around the makeshift table.

“Lieutenant Granger!” Charles murmured. “How fortuitous for us!”

“Major Win-chester,” she gave him a surprised smile. “I didn’t realize you’d been assigned out here.”

“Unfortunate circumstances--”

Hawkeye interrupted them a trifle impatiently. “—which is the official Bostonian euphemism for the consequences of hubris. Aren’t you going to introduce us, Chuck?”

Sidney saw a flare of genuine irritation in Winchester’s gaze but he merely sighed. “Lieutenant Granger, these are Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt, and Major Freedman.”

“We’ve met,” she dimpled at this last and Sidney felt a flash of pleasure as BJ looked surprised, and Hawkeye slightly dour. 

“The lieutenant assisted me in surgery several times in Tokyo and is exceedingly qualified,” Winchester added. “It’s good to see a familiar face, despite the reason.”

“Here to help. Ah, anyway, I had a question for Major Freedman but I don’t mean to interrupt y’all’s game.”

“Oh I love the yodel of the Alamo,” Hawkeye observed, tucking his fresh cards into his hand. 

Sidney noted a little flicker of irritation in Granger’s gaze but she managed a smile. “Actually, the Alamo is ‘bout four hundred miles from my corner of the Lone Star state. If I might have a word with you, Major?”

Sidney rose up and made his way around the table, following Olivia outside and into the twilight. She stepped away from the tent and sighed. “It’s a little thing and kinda dumb, but did you see my book? I thought I brought it in with me, but couldn’t find it when I unpacked.”

“You checked with the motor pool?” Sidney asked, and she nodded in return.

“Yep, they didn’t have it.”

Sidney thought for a moment. “We ought to retrace our steps then, Olivia. Maybe you left it in the colonel’s office.”

She brightened, and then looked chagrined. “Should have thought of that in the first place,” Olivia muttered.

Sidney gave her a gentle smile. “I’ll help you look--you’ve had a lot to deal with in the last few hours.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” came the heartfelt mutter.

He leaned back into the tent. “Dealer folds; Charles, you get to referee.”

“Oh goodie,” came the sour reply.

Sidney walked with Olivia towards the command tent, giving her time to relax. He suspected she had more to say and she did. “I just didn’t know it was this . . . primitive, I guess. I mean I kin handle it; I did grow up on a ranch and all, but it’s gonna take some time to get used to again.”

“Culture shock,” Sidney agreed. “But you’re in the best M*A*S*H* unit bar none, and more than that, you’re needed here.”

“Something to keep in mind,” Olivia nodded. She knocked and they entered.

Radar looked up from his comic, flustered once again at the sight of her. “Ah Lieutenant, ma’am?”

“S’okay corporal, jest looking for my book. Did I leave it here?” Olivia asked kindly as Sidney watched.

“Oh! Yeah,” Radar admitted, fetching the copy of Forever Amber from the top of a nearby file cabinet. “Here. I saw the title and took a peek but it didn’t say anything about rock collecting.”

“Yeah, I don’t suppose it would. Thank you for hanging onto it,” Olivia told him and Sidney watched Radar blush a bit.

“You’re welcome, ma’am, lieutenant.”

When they stepped out, Olivia chuckled. “Lord is he _always_ that bashful?”

“To the core, but don’t underestimate him,” Sidney replied. “Radar has his moments. So now . . .” he found himself reluctant to return to the game. Olivia seemed to sense it, and gave him a shy look. 

“Now I get to see what I can trade it for . . . but not right away. Sid, you got a moment?”

He gave a thoughtful little nod. “Of course.”

There was more of course. They sat across from each other in the mess tent, sharing the last of the coffee and more about themselves in an easy give and take. Olivia opened up a bit more about herself and Sidney found himself telling stories about growing up in New York, about his family and life before going into the army. These were things he hadn’t thought about in years and certainly hadn’t shared with anyone in an equally long time. He even mentioned Rachel, which surprised him.

“Divorce is hard,” Olivia murmured, reaching over to rest a cool hand over his. “’bout a third of the nurses I know are divorced. Hell, I was headin’ for one myself when Newt kicked the bucket. I’m just glad it was the two of us. I’d hate to bring kids into that squabble.”

Sidney nodded. “True. If you don’t mind my asking . . . how did your husband die?”

He watched her flinch a little. “Newt was . . . murdered. D’ruther _not_ talk about it if you don’t mind. It’s all water long gone under the bridge.” 

For the first time Sidney felt his professional instinct war with his personal feelings. He noted the way she drew into herself; to counter that he nodded again and changed the subject. “So have you actually met the colonel’s horse?”

When Olivia’s face lit up, he knew he’d said the right thing and for the next ten minutes she rambled on about the mare delightedly. By the time the corporal cleaning the mess tent gave them pointed looks and Sidney ushered Olivia out, the tension was gone, and the hour was late.

“Oh lord I talked your ear off,” she muttered, embarrassed. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right. More than all right,” Sidney assured her. They ambled towards the nurse’s tents, and she turned to him a few yards from the nearest one.

“Thanks for helping me find my book . . . and listening,” Olivia told him. “I appreciate it.”

“Glad to help,” Sidney smiled kindly. “Get some rest—you’re going to need it. Goodnight, Olivia.”

She darted forward and gave him a quick hug before he was prepared for it. The warm press of her along with a hint of perfume left him slightly stunned, and when Sidney turned away, he was smiling.

Back at the swamp the assembled group looked at him with varying expressions ranging from knowing (Hawkeye) to curious (Charles) to amused (BJ). Knowing the best defense is an offense, Sidney shrugged. “Someone’s first night at sleepover camp; she needed some reassuring.”

“Oh is that what they’re calling it now?” Hawkeye mused. “You crazy kids and you’re newfangled lingo. Whatever happened to slipping into the supply tent and making out like crazed weasels?”

“I think it was already booked,” BJ smirked. “Reservations are required these days.”

“Never mind the boors,” Charles sniffed. “I’m sure nurse Granger will settle in just fine.”

Sidney sat down and gave a small smile. “I’m sure she will. Who’s dealing, gentlemen, and what’s the ante?”


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Sid,  
You were right; just giving myself a little time to adjust HAS helped. It also doesn’t hurt that I bought candy and those books too. Most of the nurses are good gals and we get along pretty well now. Kelley is a real hoot; you should see her impression of Betty Boop sometime!_

_Surgery here is a lot more down and dirty than I thought it would be. I mean, in Tokyo we were used to getting cases with some prelim, but the way it goes here is more like all the kings horses and all the kings men, with pieces left over or never found. Lord knows I’m not squeamish but it does take getting used to. Major Winchester asked for me to assist regularly, which is kind of flattering but I think it’s because I’m a good anticipator. I’ve worked with him enough to know what he’s going to want nearly every step of the way and around here that speeds things up considerably._

_And the casualty traffic is kinda up and down. Sometimes we’re so slammed it’s a plumb wonder any of us in the OR can stay standing, and other times the boredom’s enough to drive you crazy. When it’s downtime I spend what I can with Sophie and groom her up good. The colonel’s been nice enough to let me exercise her and the first time I did you should have seen the looks I got—you’d think they’d never seen a gal go bareback around a pasture before. Sophie’s good company, though._

_I hope things are going well with you, and also hope you can swing by the 4077th sometime soon even if it’s not for strictly professional reasons._  
Take care,  
Olivia 

_*** *** ***_

_Dear Olivia,  
Glad to hear you’re fitting in; I knew you would. Adverse conditions make it easier to do that, but in any case you’re a good woman and an excellent nurse so you have those helping as well. Margaret Houlihan doesn’t tolerate anyone without professionalism—in nurses anyway-- or compassion, trust me._

_Glad to hear too that you’re indulging in a little equine therapy. I’m betting Potter is delighted to have someone else around who knows a thing or two about horse care. I’ve often thought animals bring their own brand of comfort to those in need of it. Mind you, HQ would frown on my showing up with a basket of kittens but I have no doubt they’d raise the morale of both the patients and caregivers. Might be a line of treatment worth pursuing outside of a war zone._

_I went to visit Nurse Heywood after her surgery here and although her outlook is good the prognosis is that she’s going to need a great deal of physical therapy before she can walk without a limp. She’s depressed of course, but her sister flew in from stateside and is going to be with her through it all. If you could get some of the nurses there to drop her a note it would help her know she’s not forgotten._

_Speaking of visiting, I may be coming by fairly soon since there has been serious talk about creating a separate corps for my line of work. I’ve been asked to look into the feasibility of a mobile psychiatric unit, depending on what I and a few other shrinks report. Statistics---I thought I was done with those back in Med school but the army runs on them apparently. The upshot is that I’ll be by sooner than you think and I’m looking forward to seeing you._

_Be safe,  
Sidney_

He came in just as she was getting off shift, and it was gratifying to watch her catch sight of him and perk up. She hurried over to the jeep and threw her arms around him in a way that was a nice compensation for the long trip. Warm and sweet, and over too soon as far as Sidney was concerned. He reluctantly pulled away to look into her face. “You’re exhausted,” he told Olivia quietly. “I’m prescribing sleep, lieutenant; don’t make me pull rank on you.”

“I’m fine,” she protested, fighting a yawn, “really.”

“In a pig’s valise,” he told her in a mock-scolding tone. “Look, I just got here and I’ve got paperwork to do; go get some rest and we can catch up by . . .” he checked his watch, “breakfast tomorrow. Ah, no protesting or I won’t give you the present I brought.”

Olivia looked mulish, but finally gave him a twisted smile. “Great. Now I’m dying of curiosity and I won’t be able to sleep.”

Affectionately Sidney caught her by the shoulders and began to steer her towards the nurse’s tents. “Curiosity only kills cats and people foolish enough to wander into the mine field. Bed, Granger, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Now I _know_ you’re a major,” she griped, still smirking, “pullin’ rank like this.”

“Shhh, it’s one of the few perks of having oak leaves. _Sleep_ , bubbala and we’ll talk in the morning.”

Olivia didn’t protest further but when they reached her tent she hugged him once again, lingeringly.

“I know you’re here for other reasons, but I’m glad jest the same,” she murmured before slipping into her tent. Sidney turned away only to spot BJ and Hawkeye watching him from across the road, smirking.

“If it isn’t Heckle and Jeckle,” Sidney sighed, crossing over to them. Both doctors were still in stained scrubs.

“Our little mensch is growing up so fast,” Hawkeye murmured. “Hey, I know a bar where we can mitzvah over cheap gin.”

“If you’re buying,” Sidney eyed him. “Although you may want to shower first.”

“They’re so _picky_ at this age,” BJ confided. “Next thing you know he’ll need that talk about the birds and the bees.”

“ _I_ only know about the lobsters and the turkeys; Maine’s a little behind the times,” Hawkeye snickered.

“I leave bestiality to others,” Sidney replied, amused, “no shop talk, please.”

“Fine, fine. Go see Potter and we’ll meet up with you in twenty,” BJ promised. Sidney nodded and ambled his way to Potter’s office, feeling a wave of bemused affection for camp. It was quiet; the after-lull of surgery and when he reached the Colonel’s office Potter grimly signing off on death certificates, his expression haggard. It shifted a little, though, when he saw Sidney.

“Never gets any easier, thank God,” Potter muttered. “The day I stop regretting these . . .”

“. . . is there day I’ll be here to see _you_ ,” Sidney assured him. “You didn’t kill them. You did what you could to stop them from dying.”

“ _Bull_ crap,” Potter spat out. “They shouldn’t have been wounded in the _first_ place! Everything we do here is mere patchwork and stopgap, Major. Boys a fourth my age crippled or worse--” He waved at the paper work and sighed deeply. “Hell you know all this. I guess I’m just feeling the years at the moment.”

“It’s all right,” Sidney assured him. “Kvetching is a time-honored way of dealing with harsh reality.”

“Best way of lowering my blood pressure,” Potter admitted with a wry smile. “Got the memo; are they serious about a mobile psych unit?”

“Feasibility study,” Sidney countered. “They won’t make a move without data. At the moment Ord has a serious problem with the ‘fit for duty’ re-certification, and I’m sure you know the self-inflicted injury rate is going up.”

“We’re watching for it,” Potter sighed. “Not exactly a new phenomenon.”

“No,” Sidney agreed. “And frankly I see it as indicative of a sense of self-preservation. Still, the numbers will weigh in on whether we establish field units or not. I’m just here to observe.”

“Fair enough,” the colonel agreed. “Any files you need, Radar can pull them, and I’ll make sure you get time to talk to whoever you need to talk to. Won’t deny you’re a calming influence around here.”

Sidney smiled at that. Initially a lot of commanders were skeptical of his work, but here near the front line the validation meant a great deal to him. “Thanks, Colonel. So . . . how’s the new nurse fitting in?”

Potter glanced at him over the top of his glasses. “Granger? Good hands, fast too.”

“Good.”

“And she knows her way around a stable as well,” Potter admitted with a little flick of a grin. “Won’t deny it’s been helpful to have someone else around here who’s good with a curry brush.”

“Silver linings,” Sidney pointed out, rising.

Potter gave a little throat-clearing that caught his attention. “Mighty pretty too, but I notice Pierce hasn’t made a move in her direction.”

Sidney managed a half-smile. “Is that so?”

“Well between the Bowie knife she carries in her boot and the letters she gets it’s probably better for him in the long run,” Potter observed, his eyes twinkling a little. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“Very likely,” Sidney agreed, finally smirking, “but I’m biased that way.”

Potter’s chuckles were a nice sound as Sidney stepped out of the tent.


	4. Chapter 4

“So you’re _serious_ about her,” Hawkeye stated, giving Sidney a smirk.

“I won’t know that until a little further along,” Sidney protested but lightly. They were enjoying lukewarm beer at Rosie’s in the late afternoon, and although the weather was mild he was starting to feel a little warm.

“Denial; aren’t you shrinks all about breaking through that?” BJ wanted to know, grinning.

“Who’s denying? I’m simply being a realist,” came the grumble. “Despite my many charms it probably hasn’t escaped you two that I’m slightly older than she is.”

And that was a sticking point, Sidney admitted to himself. Most of the women his age in the Army were either in it for a full career or discreetly oriented to their own sex. That meant that an age gap was inevitable, and in this particular case was only one of a few concerns.

“Granger’s in Korea, which means she’s a _big_ girl now,” Hawkeye pointed out. “For the record, she’s also armed, which is a tad disconcerting.”

“Yes I heard about that,” Sidney pushed his empty bottle away. “Bowie knife.”

“She pulled it on Margaret,” BJ admitted. “Not on purpose. Margaret came up behind her unexpectedly during the night shift and nearly got shivved. I never saw anyone draw a blade so fast outside the OR.”

“Why?” Sidney mused on that, and the answers that came to mind were worrisome.

“Claims she was startled,” BJ admitted. “Margaret played it off as a minor thing. Probably a Texan thing.”

“Margaret’s faced _bigger_ disasters than a Bowie knife,” Hawkeye snickered. “Delirious patients; the Friday mystery meat in the mess hall; Frank’s entire _existence_ —put ten of her on the front line and Kim ill Sung would be wetting his uniform.”

“She does have the capacity to deal with the unexpected,” Sidney agreed.

“Still,” BJ murmured, “if you want to go out on a date with a woman who could potentially skewer you . . . that’s living on the edge, my friend.”

“So when is your first date?” Hawkeye demanded playfully. “Movie night’s tonight—they’re showing The Snake Pit---or would that be too much like work?”

“I’m not sure watching Olivia De Havilland come back from tortured schizophrenia is quite the mood I was going for,” Sidney sighed. “Call me old-fashioned that way.”

“Suit yourself; I’m planning on brushing up on my straitjacket technique,” Hawkeye replied saucily.

“Applying or wearing?” BJ wanted to know as Sidney tossed a few bills on the bar.

“Depends on whether Nurse Baker has a 36 long or not.”

Nodding goodbye to them, Sidney made his way back to camp, and after a little surreptitious searching found Major Houlihan restocking bandages in one of the cabinets outside the OR. She gave him a quick smile and Sidney moved to help her, opening the cartons for her as he spoke.

“Major, just the person I was looking for.”

“Major,” she replied. “Something wrong?”

“I heard about a little incident between you and Lieutenant Granger,” he murmured lightly, watching her face.

It tightened fractionally. “Exaggerated,” she replied. “I startled her.”

“I see,” Sidney responded, and waited. He was good at waiting; it was a primary tool in his job and one that worked more often than not. Houlihan continued to stock the bandages but her movements were jerky. Finally one of the bandages dropped and Sidney retrieved it, handing it to her.

“Look, I know it’s against regulations but I’m not going to put her on report for it,” Houlihan muttered quietly. “I can’t. If I did, I’d have to add Baker and Kellye and God knows how many others of us who carry some . . . form of self-protection. I trust I’m speaking to you off the record here.”

“Confidential,” Sidney nodded. “Self-protection?”

She shot him a withering look. “Major, we are within ten miles of the front line, and while that’s hard enough for all sorts of reasons, there’s THE one constant potential threat to my nurses that nobody ever talks about. Of course we’re armed. Sometimes it’s just a nail file, or a pair of cuticle scissors but whatever it is, it’s enough to do some damage if we have to.”

Sidney sighed. “You’re right. I’m not passing judgment on the unfortunate necessity, Margaret. I’m just a little curious as to the particulars.”

“I suprised Granger,” Houlihan repeated, relaxing a little. “Came up behind her unexpectedly. She ducked, spun and like that—” the Major gave a half-smirk, “I had six inches of tempered steel practically in my face.” Her expression shifted once more, this time looking slightly melancholy. “This wasn’t just about being in a war zone, Sidney. What she did--it wasn’t a response; it was a _reflex_. I’m fairly sure Granger’s been threatened before.”

He nodded. It made sense, and he trusted Margaret’s assessment. “It’s probable. How’s her work?”

“Good,” Houlihan replied. “She knows what she’s doing and I haven’t had any trouble with her, gets along well enough with the other nurses.”

“Good,” he echoed, tucking the last of the bandages into the cabinet. “So she’s fitting in and doing her job.”

“Yes,” Houlihan agreed. “And as far as I’m concerned, that’s all I need from her. If she needs to talk, I’m available, but for now . . . I’ll just make more noise when I come up behind her.”

“Wise,” Sidney murmured. “Although I might see if she’ll have a word with me.”

Houlihan’s groomed eyebrow arched up. “Isn’t that mixing business with pleasure?”

“It’s called playing doctor, and I think your surgical team does enough of it around here,” he teased. She tried not to laugh and gave up, snickering.

“Just as long as I don’t have to stitch you up afterwards.”

*** *** *** 

He’d brought her books; Olivia protested it too much but Sidney savored the way she picked up each title and flipped open the covers to read the inside blurbs, her profile particularly pretty in the morning light. Aware that he was staring, Sidney took a sip of coffee and tried not to be too smug.

“Riders of the Purple Sage—you remembered!” came her pleased chuckle. “Dare I ask if you read it?”

“I did,” Sidney assured her. “Thought I’d give him a try since you were so fond of him. Not bad.”

“He’s an acquired taste,” Olivia agreed. “Ooh, the Scarlet Pimpernel. Is this one any good?”

“Action, dashing hero, plucky heroine,” Sidney told her. “Gets a little anti-Semitic towards the end.”

It warmed his heart to see her expression shift as she pushed the book aside. “Huh.”

“It’s still a good book,” he murmured. “Very romantic.”

“Maybe, but . . .” she hesitated, shooting him a wry look. 

Sidney held her gaze. “I don’t take it personally, you know. She hasn’t written anything I haven’t dealt with before. Often, in fact.”

Olivia shook her head. “My family . . . we got neighbors down the road. Their granddad and one of my great uncles came out west together, helped each other get settled. The Shapiros came from Galveston and before that, Russia, so I just . . . I don’t want to read anything hateful.”

Sidney cocked his head, touched and surprised. “You know a Jewish family?”

“Yep,” she assured him. “I got my start working at my dad’s medical practice so I know most of the people in Marathon, and they’re dark and light and native and from south of the border and back East and,” Olivia shrugged, “mostly good. As my dad said, we’re all the same basic template, so why anyone would care about the differences when we’re all so much the same inside?”

“Your father sounds like a wise man,” Sidney told her.

Olivia nodded. “I think so. Not perfect—he was a drinker at times and not always good about money but he knew people through and through. Folks say I take after him.”

“And your mother?” Curiosity prompted him.

Olivia grinned. “Irish and feisty as hell.”

“Are you sure you don’t take after _her_?” Sidney teased. Before she could reply, someone leaned over the table, eyeing the books hungrily.

“Ooooh, wow. Liv, I think you need to go steady with this guy,” Nurse Kellye murmured. “Around here, books are better than chocolates or flowers you know.”

“Better for your teeth, too,” Sidney pointed out, amused that high color was showing on Olivia’s cheeks.

“Hush,” she murmured. “The major’s jest being nice.”

Nurse Kellye shot him a questioning look and Sidney arched an eyebrow in return; amused, the nurse fought a giggle.

“Uh-huh, well you go ahead and be nice right _back_ to him, and dibs on that Zane Grey when you’re through with it, okay?” She moved off, and Sidney noted that Olivia looked conflicted.

He leaned closer to her, dropping his voice to a confidential tone. “It’s all right; they’re gifts, not obligations, Olivia.”

“I know,” she replied softly. “I just . . . I don’t want people gossiping or getting the wrong idea, that’s all.”

“And which idea would that be?” Sidney murmured, trying to keep his tone mild. 

“That you and I . . . are, you know . . . .”

“Friends?” he offered gently. “I think the word’s gotten out already.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled at that. “That we’re sweet on each other, to put it in Texan terms I guess. Not only do you outrank me, but you’ve got a reputation to worry about, Sid. Once this war’s over I’m getting out, but if you’re in it for your career, I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Let’s take a walk,” he suggested, gathering up the books. They headed out of the mess tent and ambled along in the morning light, not speaking for a few minutes. Finally Olivia slipped her arm into his free one, leaning closer to him.

Sidney sighed happily. “I think we are sweet on each other.”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “At least I am on you. I just . . . as I told you it might be tricky.”

“True,” he agreed. “For one thing I’m older than you, and as you noticed, Jewish.”

Olivia waved a dismissing hand. “Neither of those bother me.”

“So what does?” Sidney wanted to know. They’d reached Sophie’s paddock and Olivia undid the gate, stepping in as he followed her. She turned to him, her face taut.

“Sid . . . my husband was murdered while tryin’ to rob a bank. In a little bitty place like Marathon, that’s like having a brand on your hide. I got into the army to get away from my past but it ain’t that easy. I won’t have you tarred with that brush.”


	5. Chapter 5

He kept his expression mild but the news stunned him a little. Sidney had expected something troubling from her past, but nothing quite so dramatic. 

Olivia sighed. “Yeah, kind of below the belt but you’d have found out sooner or later and I druther you heard it from me first hand, so when you dump me at least you’ll have the facts.”

“I have no intention of dumping you,” he contradicted her gently. “We just got to the part where we admitted our feelings; I’d like to savor that for a little bit _longer_ than ten minutes.”

She snickered a bit. “Yeah, me too. But that doesn’t change the truth.”

Sid cocked his head. “And what _is_ the truth?”

Olivia gave a little whistle; across the little paddock Sophie pricked her ears and ambled over, chuffing softly as the woman stroked her muzzle. “I got married too young to a boy who didn’t know how to be a husband. Honestly, I didn’t know much about bein’ a wife either, so we fought. Sometimes about dumb things, like chores and late nights out and garbage, but a lotta times it was about money. I kept tryin’ to save it, and Newt, well . . . Newt liked to gamble. Cards mostly, sometimes bettin’ on cockfights, or football games.”

“Chronic?” Sidney murmured, fairly sure of the answer. He knew the type well; understood the blend of charm and desperation in those people who developed compulsions. He’d argued with colleagues that certain compulsions pushed into the definition of addiction but the verdict was still out on that.

“Oh yeah,” Olivia sighed, patting Sophie. “Got to the point where I’d have to hide my paycheck and I ended up burying the good silver just to keep him from pawning it. I was _this_ close—” She held up a thumb and forefinger an inch apart—“to divorcin’ him. Had the papers drawn up and everything.”

Sidney moved to the other side of the horse’s neck and he stroked it lightly. “But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t get the chance,” Olivia admitted. “He decided to rob the First National late on a Friday at the end of the month. Went in and had all the cashiers dump their tills into one of our good pillowcases. The last girl behind the counter was able to hit the alarm and Newt took off. He came tearing up the road to our place and . . .” she stopped, and looked upwards. “Did you hear something?”

Belatedly Sidney caught the thrumming sound in the air as the PA blared. “Incoming!”

He watched Olivia run over and gracefully hop the fence as she headed for the ‘copter landing pad with several other personnel, leaving him behind with Sophie, who gave a little snort of frustration.

“You and me both honey, you and me both,” Sid sighed.

\--oo00oo--

The casualties were relatively light compared to other battles and Sidney spent his time working in a non-surgical capacity, suturing lesser wounds, cleaning minor injuries, re-setting bones and bandaging the more mobile soldiers. He wasn’t as out of general practice as he feared he might be and he knew Major Houlihan appreciated another set of hands for the secondary care. Still, Sidney was as tired as the rest of the staff once they came off shift, and he accepted the nods and pats on the back with a wry smile.

“I knew there was a real doctor in there,” Hawkeye teased. “Admit it; it’s fun to slip on the old scrubs again instead of taking just notes and nodding.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sidney replied through a sigh. “Give me analysis over dialysis any day.”

“Your lips may say no-no, but your eyes are bright with triage,” BJ murmured. “Shower time, folks.”

Sidney didn’t meet up again with Olivia until nearly sunset; he found her making the post-op rounds with one of the other nurses.

“Checking my stitch work?” he teased them lightly. “I knew I shouldn’t have left my stapler back in Seoul.”

Baker gave him a small smile. “Nobody’s had any stuffing come out yet so I think you’re safe, Doctor Freedman.”

“I can always use glue for backup,” he assured her. Baker headed out, leaving him alone with Olivia, who shot him a grin. She helped settle a patient in before coming over to his side and handing him the chart. 

“Small, neat, pre-cise—someone in your family was good with thread.”

“My uncle Moses was a tailor,” Sidney admitted, “worked for him as my summer job for a few years. It’s taken me a while to stop estimating inseams while I patching people up.”

She laughed, just as he intended, and even through her fatigue Sidney thought she was beautiful.

“Still appreciated the help; you know that, right?”

“I get that impression,” he nodded, and they made the rounds quietly, monitoring the ward for the next half-hour. When Kellye came to relieve them, he and Olivia left together, meandering back towards Sophie’s paddock without saying too much. Once there, Olivia leaned against the fence and rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder.

“You’re a patient man, Sidney Freedman,” she murmured.

“I try to be,” he told her. “Part of the training.”

“Part of it your nature,” Olivia countered. She took a deep breath. “Soooo, where was I? Oh yeah, Newt, headin’ home with a pillowcase full of loot, all frantic, tellin’ me I had to help him because I’m his wife, that I can’t testify against him . . . It was awful,” she shuddered. Sidney moved closer, offering unspoken support and it took Olivia a moment to continue.

“Jeb Payton—he was the sheriff—showed up about fifteen minutes later and when he got out of his car, Newt . . . Newt . . . grabbed me . . .”

Sidney took a breath as realization washed over him. “Your husband took you hostage.”

Olivia burst into tears, her shoulders shaking, and without a second thought Sidney slid his arms around her. She clung to him, weeping hard, her entire frame tense, but Sidney simply stroked her back soothingly, letting the release flow out of her. He tried to stay objective but couldn’t; her pain and shame had him hating Newt Granger for this. 

Sidney also couldn’t deny that having Olivia in his embrace felt right, that the comfort he could give in this moment had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with a softer, stronger urge to protect and console this woman. Sidney murmured soft little sounds and gradually Olivia’s sobs slowed and finally stopped, although she hiccuped a little.

Raising her head she shuddered again, and wiped her face with the palm of one hand. “Damn it. I thought I was _over_ this! That I’d gotten it all _out_ of my system.”

“It was an emotional betrayal in the middle of a deeply traumatic event,” Sidney whispered to her. “That kind of wound that needs more than just a bandage, honey.”

Olivia sniffled a little. “I guess so. Anyway Jeb tried to talk to Newt, who had me up against his chest with his gun to my neck. I didn’t know Jeb’s deputy was makin’ his way through the back door until he, he, shot Newt and then there was blood all over my rug, and I was screaming . . . I was pretty much a mess after that. Don’t remember much, really, not for the first couple of days. My dad took me back home . . . . ”Olivia trailed off, resting her cheek against the front of Sid’s damp shoulder.

“You’ve been through a lot,” he reminded her, “more than a lot of people, and coming here to the front lines has probably brought some of this back. How do you feel?”

“Better,” Olivia admitted, her voice muffled against his arm. “Oh dear God, SO much better.” Raising her head she looked Sidney in the eyes. “Shit. This means I’m your patient now, doesn’t it?”

He smiled. “No. You are a woman I love. I’m here to listen and hold you and let you have the time you need to deal with what you’ve been through.”

Olivia brought her hands up to cup his face, kissed Sidney.

Lush, warm, sweet . . . he let himself savor it, kissing her back for long joyous moments until she broke away and giggled softly. 

“Mustache tickles,” Olivia told him, her voice a little shaky.

“Is this a problem?” Sidney asked, not quite ready to shave it off, but feeling open to negotiation at this point.

“I _like_ ,” she moved to kiss him again, “bein’ tickled.”

They kissed for a while, moving from tender to shyly sensual, and Sid forced himself to stay gentle, well-aware that a part of Olivia’s actions were in response to re-living her trauma. At the same time however, he knew another part came from genuine desire and that flattered him.

Finally he spoke up. “We need showers and dinner, Olivia. After that I’ll read to you.”

She smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

They stretched out together on the cot, fitting nicely despite the narrowness of the army’s standard issue, and Sidney let Olivia drape herself around his side, settling in there as he picked up the book. They were both still dressed, although their boots sat neatly under the cot.

Comfort. They both instinctively understood what was happening and accepted the need for touch and warmth and healing. The slight weight of her leg over his felt nice and Sidney enjoyed the soft scent of Olivia’s hair as he nuzzled the crown of her head.  
“I picked this one up because I figured that if you liked Forever Amber then the Pimpernel would be right up your alley,” Sidney told her. “If he’s not we can try something else.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she agreed sleepily. “Don’t hold it against me if I drift off a little though.”

Sidney chuckled softly. “I won’t.”

He read, voice low and steady, making his way through the opening scenes in Paris and twenty minutes later when the Pimpernel had escaped in his first disguise, Olivia was out, sleeping soundly. Sidney gently set the book aside and closed his own eyes, soothed and comfortable as the lamp dimmed. He was aware of people passing by the tent but trusted that nobody would intrude without good reason; despite regulations and pranks, nearly everyone at the 4077th respected post-op privacy in general.

He drifted himself, warmed in more ways than one. It had been years since Sidney had shared a bed, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. Chiding himself mentally for overlooking the obvious, Sidney allowed himself to drop off as well. 

 

Hours later he woke, slightly disoriented as he realized he was spooned around Olivia, and that the press of her backside against him was creating a very definite response. Wryly Sidney found himself caught between acknowledging his desire and gentlemanly restraint. He stayed still, hoping (against hope) that his morning erection would go down eventually.

But then Olivia ground herself back against him, Sidney groaned softly. “Olivia, honey, be kind. I’m not made of stone here.”

She giggled. “I’m not so sure ‘bout that. At least part of you is.”

“All the flattery in the world won’t change the fact that we don’t have the privacy to do anything about it,” Sidney whispered dryly. “Not that we _have_ to do anything just yet.”

“ _Want_ to,” Olivia looked over her shoulder, her grin mischievous. “Think you do too.”

“That would be a _yes_ ,” Sidney assured her, smiling back. “Which leads me to ask—when can you get a three-day pass?”

To her credit she caught on, eyebrows going up and she thought for a moment. “Well, in two weeks I’m sure I’ll be offered one. The colonel’s pretty pleased with how I’m handlin’ Sophie.”

“A whole weekend,” Sidney murmured, tightening his arm around her and resting his chin over her shoulder. “No casualties, no tents . . .”

“Mmmm,” Olivia purred happily. “Walls. Beds. Maybe even a bathtub.”

“Sounds therapeutic. I’d prescribe it for both of us, frankly.”

Olivia rolled over to face him, suddenly shy as she bit her lip. “Lord, I just realized I’ve spent the night in your tent!”

“It’s okay, we’re going steady,” Sidney teased her. “You can wear one of my clusters on your sweater if you like.”

That made her chuckle. “Best sleep I’ve had since I got here, honestly.”

“Me too,” Sidney told her. “Me too.”

\--oo00oo—

There were some knowing looks at breakfast, and ribbing from at least two of the Swamp residents but on the whole Sidney appreciated how easily everyone accepted the relationship. He knew the majority of people at the 4077th understood. 

A colleague of his—Abe Maslov—had just published about a ‘hierarchy of needs’ in regards to human development and Sidney felt there was merit in the theory, particularly in the base fundamentals for both physical and psychological needs. Certainly the structure seemed far more obvious in a war zone.

In the meantime, he and Olivia quietly kept company and made plans. 

By the time Sidney packed his duffle that Friday, he was certain of two things. First, spending time at the 4077th had been helpful in terms of data. Placing someone qualified for field psychological triage closer to the front lines would be invaluable in streamlining the evaluation process for traumatized soldiers. Sidney would stop in at the other two mobile hospitals, briefly to reconfirm that assessment, and then . . . well that led to the second fact.

Namely that in two weeks, he’d be spending a weekend in Seoul with Olivia. The thought had him slightly nervous, very happy and determined not to over-analyze it. Sidney reminded his reflection in the shaving mirror he was a grown man and still grinned anyway.

“My professional advice to you, Sid is . . . don’t screw it up.”

Easier said than done, he knew, but Sidney was determined to give Olivia the opportunity to get to know him at her own pace. He certainly wanted to know her in every sense of the word to his own amused chagrin. After years of sublimating his own physicality, the effect of Olivia on his libido and his ego was gratifying. 

A knock at the frame of his tent door made him look up; Hawkeye leaned in, a tentative smile on his face. “Is our hour with you up already?”

“Psychosis waits for no man,” Sidney countered affectionately. “I’m the very paladin of psychiatrists.”

“Have couch will travel reads the card of a man,” Hawkeye agreed cheekily, and then his expression shifted a little to something more wistful, Sidney noted. “Hey, I think you’ve got a good thing going with Granger, for what it’s worth.”

“Sincerity,” Sidney replied, “Now I’m worried.”

Hawkeye made a slightly dismissive gesture. “Fine. It will never last; you’re doomed and headed straight to heartbreak city. Better?”

“That’s the Hawkeye I know and fear,” came the soft response. 

“Wouldn’t want you to leave on a sappy note,” Hawkeye agreed, smirking. “What with it being a war zone and all.”

Sidney nodded. “Precisely. That being said, thanks. You may not know it, but you and this hospital are healers beyond the stitches or blood transfusions.”

“Yeah well it takes one to know one,” Hawkeye pointed out with wry appreciation. “Here.”

He handed over a folded note. Sidney took it and glanced at the contents, slightly surprised.

“I know a guy has a nice restaurant on Hancheon Road,” Hawkeye muttered, crossing his arms. “Owes me for a spleen job. You and Granger will get the works. Consider it a payoff for the poker IOU.”

Tucking the paper into his breast pocket, Sidney smiled. “Thanks.”

Hawkeye shrugged again. “Same.”

\--oo00oo—

The restaurant was called 새와 물고기 and that translated to ‘Birds and Fish’ according to the little book in Sidney’s hands. The scents drifting from it made his mouth water, and he checked his watch, hoping it was nearly six. 

“I’m nervous,” he acknowledged to himself. “It’s been nearly seven years since I’ve . . . . aaaaand I’m nervous.” Simply saying it aloud helped.

A piercing whistle made him and several other people on the street look up; he spotted Olivia hurrying towards him, smiling, her long braid whipping as she sped up. He moved to catch her as she lunged into his arms, hugging him hard, the warm scent of her glorious.

“What that _you_?” Sidney murmured, smiling. “I’m sure they heard that all the way to Tokyo.”

“It was me,” she admitted. “Comes in handy,” Olivia giggled, and pressed a light kiss on him. “Hi there.”

“Hello to you too,” Sidney replied, leading her towards the doorway of the restaurant. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” Oliva admitted. “Readin’ about Sir Percy by myself jest isn’t as fun.”

“We can pick up where you left off,” he offered.

“Didn’t bring it,” Olivia told him shyly. “Figured we might have _better_ things to do.”

“That we might,” he smiled back, feeling just as shy. “So this is the place and judging by the smells, I think we’re going to have a pretty good meal.”

Inside a tiny woman took the folded note from Sidney and broke into a wide grin. “Yes yes! We feed you!”

The note held some sort of magic to it, Sidney decided as course after course showed up on their table, all of it hot and delicious. He discovered that he and Olivia shared adventurous palates, and kimchi didn’t faze her in the least.

“Texas peppers,” she explained with a grin. “My mother put them in everything but the desserts. You?”

“Sauerbraten and kishka from home, but there were a lot of other things in the neighborhood. falafel with spices, stromboli, Jamaican mutton curry . . . in New York you can get heartburn on every corner,” Sidney replied.

“And you loved every bite,” she accused. 

He nodded. “What’s life without a little heat?” The reply was meant to be light, but when he caught Olivia’s eyes she blushed, and that charmed him. They lingered even after they’d finished the bungeoppang cakes, and by the time they had thanked the hostess and her son, it was nearly nine. Olivia gave a contented sigh, linking her arm with his.

“So I’ve already checked in to B barracks, but I haven’t dropped off my gear there,” she murmured to him.

“And I’ve checked into BOQ hut number 8th,” Sidney replied, jingling the key in his pocket. “It’s out on the end of the row. A little isolated but it’s got its own bathroom and a nice view of the cinderblock perimeter fence I’d love to show you.”

“I’d love to see it.”


	7. Chapter 7

Sidney helped her into the jeep and they headed for the base. At the main gate, the sentries waved them through after a quick ID check, both of them saluting. After turning in the jeep and collecting Olivia’s duffel from the motor pool lockers, they headed on foot down A Street. The grounds were quiet and the wind had picked up, herding dry leaves across the road. 

It wasn’t a long walk, but by the time they’d reached hut number eight they were both chilled. Sidney worked the key into the lock, trying not to shiver from either the cold or the anticipation. Once he managed to get the door open, he waved her inside the larger of the two rooms.

“I don’t suppose you have a fireplace,” she teased, looking around at the standard issue décor. He dialed up the thermostat by the door and closed it behind them.

“Nope, but with luck the heat will kick in soon. So . . .” he drifted off, not quite sure what to say in the dim light. Olivia dropped her duffel and came closer, putting her arms around him.

“So we’re a pair, aren’t we? Sid, I’m so out of practice at this and you’re so damned _patient_ with me . . .” she confessed, cuddling against him.

“The same could be said for you putting up with _me_ ,” Sidney sighed. “More than anything I want you to be _comfortable_ , bubelah. And you’re not the _only_ one a little out of practice.”

That made her giggle a bit, and she raised her head to look at him. “Tell you what—let’s get in bed and get warm first. I don’t know about you, but heat is the primary thing we need.”

“Agreed,” Sidney smiled, dropping a little kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Bathroom’s yours first.”

The standard issue sheets were a little rough but the heavy wool blanket helped make a pocket of insulation, and Sidney moved over once Olivia came out and slipped under the covers.

“You warmed it up for me,” she purred gratefully.

“Back in a moment,” Sidney assured her and made his way to the bathroom, trying not to feel self-conscious in his boxers. He brushed his teeth and rinsed, trying not to look at his reflection too much. Moving quickly in the semi-darkness, he made it back to the bed and slid in amid a few creaks from the ancient springs in the mattress. “Hi.”

Olivia chuckled and pulled him to her, both of them cuddling together in the nest-like warmth. “Hey yourself.”

Sidney felt her kiss the side of his face, her lips moving down the side of his neck, which he quickly discovered was an unexpected zone of bliss. He groaned a little, feeling surges of desire flare through his frame.

“Oy,” came his sigh, “that’s nice. Olivia, we need to talk about, um, protection?”

“I have some,” she breathed into his ear, making Sidney shiver slightly. 

“Me too,” he assured her. He made it a point to brush her hair aside so he could kiss her neck as well, gratified when Olivia gave a whimper.

“Warmin’ up now,” she admitted, wrapping her arms around him. They kissed for a while, savoring each other. Olivia’s hair was down and he stroked it, kissing his way along her temple to drop his mouth onto hers, quietly thrilled at her sweet response. Her hands stroked his chest and shoulders, moving slowly along his skin.

“Niice,” came her little whisper. “You’ve got fur and muscles under your drabs, Doctor Freedman.”

“So do you,” he chuckled softly, sliding a hand to cup one full breast. “I like what I’m feeling.”

“Mutual,” Olivia shifted to pull him over her, sighing happily.

Her skin was addictive, Sidney thought. Smooth and warm. He brushed his mustache over as much of it as he could, being gentle, and was rewarded when Olivia began to wriggle, her fingers tugging down his boxers.

“ _Both ___of us gettin’ a little worked up,” came her murmur. “Hoo boy.”

Sidney tried not to laugh but her comment delighted him. He let one hand glide down her stomach to brush against the fluffy puff between her hips, cupping it. “We should do something about that.”

“Mmm-hmmmm,” Olivia agreed breathlessly, arching her hips up as he lightly rubbed his palm against the seam of her sex. She shifted, widening her legs and Sidney fluttered his fingers along the slick folds, ever so gently stroking the firm little button with the ball of his thumb. Within a few minutes Olivia groaned, writhing against him as her orgasm flared through her. 

Sidney gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to join her. His erection rubbed against her sleek thigh, and he felt his control eroding fast. He stretched out over her, nuzzling the side of Olivia’s face. “Olivia, sweetheart . . .”

“Uhh, yeah,” she gave a soft chuckle. “Let me help.”

Between the two of them in the dark they managed to slip the condom on him, and when Olivia guided him between her damp thighs, Sidney groaned at the heat and squeeze of her body. There was no conscious thought now, simply slow deep pleasure as he rocked with her, making the mattress creak under their lovemaking.

After a while he felt himself close to the edge and tried hard to hold out, but when Olivia sank her nails into his ass Sidney growled and came, hard. Waves of heat and desire washed through him as he gave in, and he felt her shudder again under him as he did so.  
Bliss. Sidney sprawled on her for a while, replete and contented, savoring the physical joy of the moment. It had been a long time, he knew, and Olivia made this uniquely special. “That was . . . wonderful,” he confessed softly into her ear. “But I’m probably squeezing the breath out of you . . .”

“Shhh,” she chided sleepily, wrapping her arms around him. “We’ll move in a minute but right now this is damned perfect, darlin’.”

\--oo00oo—

“Hey, we _both_ have appendectomy scars!” Olivia crowed, kissing his lightly. Sidney looked down the length of his torso at her, his hands crossed behind his head.

“I was twelve. You?”

“Nine,” came her reply. “Dad assisted.” Olivia ran her hands over his abdomen, distractedly. “You have a classic frame, you know. Sorta Vetruvian.”

“I have nothing of the sort,” Sidney countered, amused. “I was a skinny kid who grew up to be a skinny man; end of story.”

“Ha,” Olivia replied, her fingers gently toying with the silky trail leading down from his navel into the thicket of curls at his groin. “The term is ‘lean’ and not all of you is _lean_ , buster.”

He felt himself blush at that, aware of her hands curling around the now growing heft of his erection. “Compensation,” Sidney smirked. “Nature’s way of making sure I had a shot at the gene pool.”

He wasn’t prepared when she giggled and slipped her lips over the head, the sensuality magnified by the silky drape of her hair along his hips. Sidney groaned as the heat of her mouth made him stiffen further. He felt her purr, and move slowly, teasing him, bringing Sidney to the edge of his control within a few minutes. Given how long it had been since he’d enjoyed this sort of pleasure, he felt he was doing well, but Sidney finally reached down to cup her shoulder, stopping her.

“Not that I don’t love what you’re doing, believe me,” he told her breathlessly, “But I’d rather share.”

She scrambled up across him for the nightstand, snagging another condom. “Well if you insist . . .”

“I insist, I insist,” Sidney chuckled, cupping her breasts and brushing his face against them as Olivia leaned over him. “Did I mention I like these? Pretty Freudian of me I guess.”

Olivia snickered. “Analyze later—we’ve got better things to do at the moment.”

He relished the achingly beautiful image of Olivia straddled over him in the dim light of dawn, rocking with his hips, her long hair spilling over her shoulders as she did so. Something in her expression—open and vulnerable, sexy and sweet—sent pangs through his chest and Sidney quietly acknowledged the truth to himself even as he pulled her down for a kiss.

Close. So very close now. Sidney shifted a hand between them and once again rested his thumb so that it slid slickly against her button with every bounce. Olivia gave a little cry of delight, quivering now, her body clenching his rhythmically. He kissed her again, his own groans blending with hers as they both began to climax.

Olivia gasped, “Oh god, I love you, I _love_ you!” and that was enough to send him over the edge as arched up, thrusting hard as he clutched her hips.

 

After a while they showered together in the tiny stall, by turns shy and silly, whispering things not meant to be shared with anyone else. Sidney let her watch him shave and in turn combed out the knots from her wet hair before helping her braid it. When they were both dressed and ready to head out for a day of sight-seeing in Seoul, Sidney took her in his arms at the door.

“Thank you,” he told Olivia quietly. “For reminding me what’s fundamentally important in this world with everything you’ve given me, sweetheart.”

She bit back a little sob, eyes bright. “Nah, thank you for letting me . . . _choose_ , I guess. We still have a lot to talk about, but you know how I feel about you.”

Sidney kissed her forehead. “Very mutual, I assure you. So . . . breakfast, and then the city?”

Olivia nodded, smiling so wide her dimples showed.


	8. Chapter 8

The weather cleared enough for them to visit in several temples in the morning, marveling at the beautiful architecture of the older parts of Seoul. Later, they bought steaming bowls of fish cakes and rice for lunch, eyes watering as the sauces burned deliciously. Sidney liked the fact that Olivia had chosen the place, and that her sense of adventure matched his. She looked gorgeous in her flowered blouse and pink pullover sweater over olive uniform trousers. He’d chosen a dress shirt and cardigan under his favorite tweed jacket, and her approval pleased him.

“So this is what you’d look like stateside,” Olivia purred. “Nice!”

“I _did_ mention my uncle the tailor, right?” Sidney replied, smiling.

“You did. Is he still around?” Olivia wanted to know as they strolled down one of the vendor streets, looking at various stalls. Sidney spotted a book cart and began steering them that way.

“He is, as is my father,” Sidney told her. “Both in their eighties. My mother passed away about twenty years ago. How about _your_ family?”

“Well you know both my dad and mom are gone,” Olivia told him gently. “My uncle runs the ranch now, but he’s getting on and most of the daily work is being handled by my cousins these days.”

“Do you miss it?” Sidney asked gently, “Ranch life that is?” They crossed the street towards the cart.

“Sometimes,” Olivia admitted. “You can’t help but love the places you grew up in, and I wouldn’t mind going back for a visit but . . .” she shook her head. “I don’t think I can live in Marathon once I get out of the army. Too many people there know ‘bout Newt and me and . . . the robbery.”

Sidney slipped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her against him with quick sympathy. She shot him a grateful look and then they were at the cart, looking at the stacks of books. The vendor gave them a little nod, his English heavily accented. “Good books, many lan-gua-ges.”

For a while Sidney and Olivia contented themselves with looking over the titles, setting aside a few for further consideration. When Olivia found the scrapbook, she laughed aloud.

“Look at this! Somebody collected all the Tarzan comic strips from the newspapers. Oh this is amazing!”

He peered over her shoulder at the neatly pasted pages. “Do you want it?”

“Yep,” she turned and brushed a quick kiss along the side of his face. “I’m gettin’ this one for sure. How about you?”

“Well I can’t turn down a copy of Wundt’s _Principles of physiological Psychology,_ ” he held up a battered book. “My German’s a little rusty but I’m sure I can muddle through it.”

Olivia made a face. “Sounds fun.”

“Oh I also have some lighter reading too,” he pointed to another book on his pile. “Max Brand-- _The Rangeland Avenger._ ”

Olivia’s eyes lit up. “Oooh!”

“For later tonight,” Sidney promised her and turned to let the bookseller haggle with him in the time-honored tradition of street vendors the world over.

They returned to the base late in the afternoon, footsore but happy, loaded with the books and a few other treasures they’d picked up along the way. The weather had gone grey again, with a smell of rain in the air. Olivia wanted to drop off some of her purchases and check in at her barracks office, so she agreed to meet him at the main dining hall and they parted ways for a while.  
Sidney took his time unpacking at the hut, and let himself muse over the last day and a half, over the newfound lightness within himself. Abruptly he sat on the foot of the bed, lightly chuckling.

“Physician heal thyself,” he murmured. “Sid Freedman, for such an educated man you’re an idiot.” He wandered to the tiny bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. “Diagnosis,” he accused the reflection. “You’re more than infatuated, you’re in _love_ , you schmuck.”

He wasn’t truly surprised; the sweet connection to Olivia had been building over the months through the letters and visits, and now, this getaway . . . Sidney sighed. 

“So what are you going to _do_ about it?” he wryly demanded of the mirror. “Jump the gun and she’ll pull back. Say nothing and she’ll be hurt. Wait and see isn’t going to cut it in this case.”

He glanced back towards the bedroom, all too aware of the little box in his shaving kit, of the necklace he’d bought before coming to Seoul. Sidney shrugged at his reflection. “I’ll do what I do best, which is listen,” he told himself with quiet conviction. “And follow my instincts.”

With a last nod to his image, he went to collect the box and head out to the dining hall.

\--oo00oo—

After dinner they walked back arm in arm, quietly comfortable in the twilight. Sidney knew they had the night and part of Sunday; by mid-afternoon both of them would have to head back to their respective assignments but for now . . .

For now they had the night ahead. He gave Olivia a sidelong glance. “Bubelah, what do you want to do after the war?”

She looked a little startled, and cocked her head as they passed under one of the streetlights. “I thought I’d get out once this one’s over, but now . . . I don’t know.”

“Suppose. Just suppose peace was declared tomorrow,” Sidney murmured. “Your tour is up, there’s a GI bill open to you, or any number of nursing positions at any number of hospitals across the United States. What would you want?”

“Well I used to think I’d settle things in Marathon and then jest . . . ask around,” she admitted. “Find someplace where I could still ride horses once in a while. What about you?”

“It’s nearly time to get out myself,” Sidney told her. “I signed up for the Second World War and was drafted for this one; I can safely say I’ve done my patriotic duty.”

They walked a bit further and Olivia sighed. “So you’d get out too?”

“I think so, yes,” Sidney admitted. “Certainly I’d go back to Brooklyn to see my father, but I wouldn’t stay there.”

“No?” She sounded surprised.

“No,” Sidney echoed. “Thomas Wolfe had it right; you can’t go home again. Memory and time are always at odds with each other. The Brooklyn I knew is gone, and I’m not sure I’m ready to accept what it’s become since I’ve been away.”

“You have a point,” Olivia agreed, “although a lot of folks back at camp are under the delusion things back home will still be the same. It’s part of what they’re hangin’ onto to keep ‘em sane, Sid.”

“I know,” came his acknowledgement. “But they’ll learn. In the meantime though, I might consider upstate. Lot of countryside there. I could open a private practice, or teach at a university, maybe write,” Sidney shrugged. “Much of it depends.”

They’d nearly reached Hut eight, and Olivia leaned up against him. “Depends on what?”

“You,” he told her with a soft smile.

Olivia blinked, holding his gaze for a long moment. She slid her hands to cup his face leaning closer, her lower lip trembling. “Oh I do love you, Sidney Milton Freedman!” 

Before he could tell her how much he loved her right back, Olivia kissed him hard, pressing him back against the door, making him laugh against her mouth.

“ _You,_ ” he murmured, and kissed her again.

They waltzed in, slowly, peeling each other out of clothing as best they could as they kissed, and Sidney savored every silly moment. It might look romantic in the movies, he knew, but nobody onscreen ever had to stop to unlace army boots or fumble with dog tags that got tangled together. Still he and Olivia managed to put a great deal of passion into their attempts and when he tumbled her onto the bed she giggled against his mustache.

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” she chortled, pulling him down to her.

“I should _hope_ so,” he agreed. “Olivia, you don’t know how happy you make this old man.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, _stop_ that. You’re twelve years older, but that’s _minor_ to me, got it?”

“Right now I certainly don’t _feel_ it,” he teased, brushing his mouth against the sensitive tops of her breasts, making her shiver. “But it matters, bubelah. For example . . . children?”

Olivia’s expression grew thoughtful. “Did you want any?”

“Wait, that’s supposed to be my question for you,” he countered, rolling to one side and pulling her to him. “I need to know how _you_ feel about that.”

“Honestly?” she looked meek, and he caught her chin with one hand, holding her gaze in the lamplight. It was hard not to let his gaze drink in her sleek nudity but he kept his eyes on hers.

“ _Honestly_ , dear heart.”

“I’m . . . I’m not that sold on the idea,” she admitted in a quick rush of words. “As a kid I spent a lot of time takin’ care of other people’s kids and helpin’ with babies but I’ve never felt a rush to have any of my own. And when things were going bad with Newt, it was sort of a mixed blessing that it was only us going through it.” Olivia gave a deep sigh. “I hope that doesn’t disappoint you too much.”

Sidney shook his head. “Of course not. Frankly, I’m not sure that I’m up to it myself mostly because I have no experience at _all_ with children.”

“Really?” She shot him a curious look and he shrugged.

“I was an only child and a late in life one at that. I can _talk_ to children and _work_ with them but on a more personal level, I’m tabula rasa.” Sidney confessed.

Olivia wriggled against him, a half-smile creating a dimple on one cheek. “So you don’t think it’s my womanly duty to provide you with youngsters?”

“No more than it’s my duty to impregnate you,” Sidney sighed, sliding his hands down her slender back to cup her ass. “Although I’m having a lot of fun with the general mechanics of it.”

She giggled again and just like that the conversation lightened. He gave her a wink. “Okay then, I think we’re in agreement here.”

“Yep,” she gave a relieved sigh. “I’ve been a little worried ‘bout that to be honest.”

“Me too,” Sidney admitted. “I’d be a senior citizen by the time any offspring of ours was ready for college . . . not a happy concept.”

“Shhh,” Olivia told him, “You’re not old and I intend to _prove_ it to you.”

“I may just let you,” he agreed.


	9. Chapter 9

Their lovemaking was slower, more exploratory in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Sidney was fascinated by the heavy silk of Olivia’s unbound hair, and by the warmth of her skin. He found she was sensitive to kisses along the undersides of her breasts, and to the brush of his mustache on her ribcage. When he moved down her body, she gave a purr of delight. “Oh! Are you . . . ?”

“Yes,” He murmured. “Ohhhh _yes_.”

She tasted every bit as sweet as he’d suspected, and Sidney found that it didn’t take long to have Olivia gasping, her long legs wrapped over his shoulders. There was something so fundamentally powerful in giving in to basic lust, to let intellect go and simply respond—taste, sound, scent-- as a man to a woman. When her last blissful shudders died away he crawled back up the length of her damp body, his erection slickly sliding up her thigh.

“I need you,” Sidney whispered to her, aware of how true it was. “I _love_ you and I need you.”

Olivia lifted her head and gazed at him, her eyes bright. “Oh darlin’ yesssss . . .” She shifted her thighs wider as Sid reached to the nightstand.

Slow and deep, he rocked into her and Olivia rolled her hips to meet each thrust, her little cries spurring him on. Her fingers raked through the curls on his chest, and clutched his shoulders as he drove hard.

The smoldering desire he’d been holding back flared, and Sidney groaned, trying to last a little longer as he felt Olivia begin to whimper, her breathing ragged. 

“Please,” she gasped, “It’s perfect, I want you, it’s just rrrrrrright . . .”

He growled and within minutes Sidney felt the flare of his orgasm hit, surging through the base of his spine through his shaft, pulse after pulse of maddening pleasure washing through his entire body.

After that Sidney wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he finally stirred, aware of how insanely happy he was at that particular moment. Shifting, he nuzzled the side of Olivia’s face, breathing into her ear. “Okay, _that_ was the zenith of climaxes, bubelah! I can die a happy man now that I’ve experienced paradise.”

She giggled, turning her head to kiss him. “You’re tellin’ ME? Good Lord, I don’t think I’m going to be walkin’ anytime soon!”

“Shhhh,” Sidney told her. “Rest up, I’m a doctor. I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m countin’ on it.”

\--oo00oo—

Sidney slipped the little box out just after Olivia climbed into the jeep, and the look on her face as she took out the thin gold chain and little book-shaped locket made Sidney wish he’d had a camera. It meant she had to climb out of the jeep to kiss and hug him once more to the driver’s vast amusement.

“You two are quite a pair of lovebirds, aren’t ya?” 

“Yep,” Olivia snorted sweetly, wiping her eyes and smiling. “And I’m _not_ embarrassed to admit it.”

“ _I_ am, but it goes away when she kisses me,” Sid murmured, making the driver laugh.

“Good enough then. We need all the love we can get around here, that’s for damned sure. Lieutenant, don’t want to rush you ma’am, but if we’re going to make it back in time . . .”

She gave him a nod and Sidney helped her back into the jeep. He caught her face in his hands, letting his thumbs caress the warm velvet of her cheekbones. “All right bubelah mine,” he murmured to her. “Expect a letter in a few days. Stay. Safe,” Sidney held her gaze. “We have a lot to future to look forward to together.”

“Yes,” came her soft words. “We sure as hell _do_ , Sidney darlin’. And thank you for this. It’s absolutely perfect.”

He smiled. “Wear it with my love, Olivia, always.”

The jeep roared to life and took off out of the main gate of the base; Sidney watched until it was out of sight, fighting the melancholy that tried to settle in his chest.

_Dear Sid,_

_Love you. So I know you can’t say anything officially, but how’s he doing? Everyone here’s worried, even though they all know you’re the best man for the job. If anyone can get our chief of surgery back to his old wise-ass self it’s you, darling._

_It’s tense around here. Between talk of the Armistice and losing Hawkeye for the duration we’re all pretty jumpy. I spend my free time reading of course, and really like the last adventure book you sent. Honestly that pueblo in the story has to be full of dunces not to see that Don Diego is Zorro, although I like the swordfighting bits, just as you said I would!_

_I heard back from Uncle Avery that he and the cousins would be more than willing to buy out my share of the ranch, so if and when this Armistice gets signed—fingers crossed—I’ll have a nice little nest egg for us. If we invest it with those stocks you mentioned I think we’ll be sitting pretty within a few years. Enough so to pick and choose where we want to go, anyway._

_I love you and I miss you. When I get lonely I think back to that last weekend in Tokyo. I don’t think there’s another woman who’s been proposed to at the gate of a Shinto shrine. I still grin at how people applauded, and how utterly romantic you are._

_Stay safe my darling, all my love,_

_Olivia  
\--oo00oo--_

_Beloved Olivia,_

_I think I can safely say a breakthrough is coming. Our mutual friend is a complex man but the mind can put up only so much in self-defensive reactions before allowing itself to heal. It hurts though, because this IS a man I admire as well as a friend. The cost of this war has always been too high, and in this case, it’s personal, bubelah._

_Armistice. Rumors are buzzing around here too, but I sense there’s some weight behind it this time, and not a moment too soon. I’m being urged to consider posts stateside and I’ve been putting my superiors off for a bit. A few know I’m considering getting out but they’re keeping it quiet. The news about your uncle sounds good, and I know it’s a load off your mind. If you need investment advice check with Charles; he’s got loads of contacts in banking._

_Don Diego is just fooling all of the people all of the time, sweetheart. It’s his schtick. I bet he and the Pimpernel would get along like gangbusters, trading tips on disguises and swordfighting._

_And I love you right back, from the crown of your head to your toes, along with all points in between. I proposed in public because I wanted people to know how lucky I was. The fact most of our witnesses couldn’t speak English didn’t matter—they got the gist and you did too. You are the woman I want to marry, and once we’re done with this man’s Army, I will._

_Love always,_

_Sid_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilog coming up next!


	10. Chapter 10

Epilog

The Korean War ended on July 27th 1953. Major Sydney Freedman was reassigned to Letterman Army Hospital at the Presidio, San Francisco while Lieutenant Olivia Granger was honorably discharged. While waiting for his resignation to be processed, the two of them were married at City Hall in a civil ceremony, attended by a handful of friends from the 4077th.

Once Sidney was free of his military obligations, they traveled to Marathon Texas to meet Olivia’s family and finalize the paperwork necessary to sell her share of the ranch to them. Sidney was given a warm welcome by the Clowderbocks who threw a huge barbeque in celebration of the wedding. Olivia introduced her new husband to habanero peppers and Texas brisket, both of which became staples for them.

Their honeymoon stretched from lovely nights in New Orleans, where both of them enjoyed practicing atrocious French and taking photos all the way up to New York City, where Olivia finally met Sidney’s aged father and uncle. They pronounced her ‘a peach!’ and gave both of them their blessings. Sidney and his bride spent two weeks in New York City, which was enough time to take in all the famous landmarks including the Strand Bookstore on Fourth Avenue where they between them they bought fifty-two books. Both of them felt that while the city was lovely to visit, it wasn’t the place they wanted to live.

After much discussion and a lot of visits, they chose New Haven Connecticut and bought a home in Prospect Hill. It was close to the Yale School of Medicine, and Sidney joined the faculty there while Olivia considered what she wanted to do. She rode—there was a stable twenty miles outside of the city—and read and decorated their house.

They ended up with eighteen bookcases—nine upstairs, nine downstairs—and after a year of consideration, Olivia enrolled in writing classes while Sidney worked on a book of his own about the psychology of combat fatigue. It ended up a respected text in the field, particularly in the VA. Celebrating one night over a bottle of wine and many kisses, the Freedmans then decided to write a book together, and did.

The Thirty-Eighth: A Memoir made the bestseller lists for twenty weeks, giving Olivia confidence in her writing. Veterans praised it, particularly those who’d worked with the M*A*S*H* units in Korea. Sidney and Olivia used part of their royalties to establish scholarships for vets in three colleges and spoke out about Veteran’s issues. They also made several book tours across the country, meeting up with old friends as they did so: Hawkeye in Maine; Charles in Boston; BJ and his beloved Peg in San Francisco.

By their fifth wedding anniversary the Freedmans had collaborated on two more books, collected three dogs--Harold the sheepdog, Dolly the beagle and Lloyd the Boston Terrier—and had outgrown the house in New Haven. They moved farther south, to Newport Rhode Island into a six bedroom home a quarter mile from the beach. They spent time writing, both together and alone,  
entertaining neighbors and friends, and walking the long stretches of beach with the dogs.

And every night they curled up together to read, make love, and sleep.

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this to be the start of three romances for M*A*S*H, simply because I've always wanted to write them!


End file.
